Nice Shoes, Let's Shag!
by RedDwarfette
Summary: Spike's frustrated and getting no action from the Slayer, what's a Vampire to do? That's right, go to The Bronze and be on the make. Season 5.


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Title: Nice shoes, let's shag!

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Author: RedDwarfette

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Email: SpikeyVampPunk@yahoo.com.au

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Rating: R - Just to be on the safe side.

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Summary: Spike's frustrated and getting no action from the Slayer, what's a Vampire to do? That's right, go to The Bronze and be on the make. Set in Season 5. If this sucks, at least I know there's enough Vampire in it :)

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Disclaimer: The characters within this fanfiction are completely the property of Joss Whedon and UPN. I claim the situation they find themselves in, thankfully I do not claim the lame pick up lines.

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Nice shoes, let's shag! - **RedDwarfette**

10th/3/2002

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Spike sat in crypt watching re-runs of 'Are you being served?' Damn bitch, he thought shifting on his chair, look what she's done to me. No unlife at all, just moping making calf eye's at the Slayer for months, showing her my charming side and where the hell does it get me? Not in her pants, that's for damn sure! Well enough of this bleedin' crap, he thought and stood up. I'm going out tonight to find the hottest girl I can and bring her back her for a little bump and grind. Scratch that, he thought grabbing his duster, a lot of bump and grind. That'll show the snooty cow. 

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Spike spotted the one the moment he walked into the bar but playing it cool he went and ordered a drink first. Sipping is drink, he sauntered over an amazon in a green dress and gave her his best piercing stare. Blue fire, if I do say so myself, he thought, mentally grinning, girl won't know what hit her. She was motionless unbelieving this man was real. He looked like a throw back from eighties punk but still sexy in a bad boy way. She was seriously considering becoming his love slave until...

"You know, I wish you could rearrange the alphabet," he said with a British accent. Even better, she thought.

"What?" she said as if coming out of a daze.

"I said, I wish I could rearrange the alphabet," said Spike, knowing victory was at hand.

"Oh," she said with a look of conviction gathering in her eyes.

"Yeah," Spike said, moving in for the kill, "That way I could put 'U' and 'I' closer together." Spike waited, sure as shite this girl would fall and his feet.

"Um," she said with a trapped look on her face, "I think I'll just go over here now, Ok?"

Spike was left alone wondering what the hell happened. Right, he though after a minute, the girl was obviously a lesbian, so I'll move on to a more deserving female. Ahhh, there's one. A nice looking brunette with a group of friends was giving him the eye. Cool and collected he walked over to where her little gal pal group was sitting and decided to introduce him self.

"Hey girls, my name is Spike," he said with a sweet smile. They were all enthralled by the mysterious stranger with their body language they urged him for more. 

"Want to know why?" he said, his sweet smile moving into a smirk.

They stared at him for a moment longer, then at each other with a dawning look of horror. In a flash, the brunette had recovered from the revelation and leaned forward to answer.

"Why? Because that's what you have to do to girls drinks to get them to sleep with you?" she said, with a dismissing glance. They all grabbed various handbags and coats and left the table.

Spike stood there for a minute, trying to remember what had been said to lead to that comment. Gathering himself he moved away from the table to get another drink at the bar. Christ, it was just his luck to try and chat up a whole group of lesbians. After receiving his drink he sipped and turned to scope the booty landscape. Fortified once again, he strode over to a dark beauty sitting by her self at a table. She gave him a shy smile and taking this as encouragement, he spoke.

"Do you know where I can find a 5000 kilo polar bear?" Spike said.

The girl had the look of an animal about to meet its maker but almost visibly wincing she asked, "Why?"

"Well, that seems like it would be the thing to break the ice," he said confident now, at last the bed in the crypt was going to see some action.

"I have a boyfriend," blurted the girl.

"You what?" said Spike.

"Yeah, yeah, he disappeared in the Bermuda triangle area for three years, he was researching Ice cream resistance to heat but he just called me and I'm supposed to meet him at the...um...swimming pool, right now," the girl said, standing up and running out of the club.

Poor sod, Spike thought, being away from a girl like that for three years was enough to turn anyone... hang on a tic, Ice cream resistance in the Bermuda triangle? Oh, I see, she was either overwhelmed by my riveting masculinity or she was a polite lesbian who didn't want to hurt his feelings. Either way, I'm confident with my sparkling personality, washboard abs and carefully maintained bad boy image I can pick up and be making the horizontal mambo within five minutes.

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Three hours later.

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"Listen mate, I've been watching you all night and I think I've pin pointed your problem," said the bartender.

"Oh yeah, what would that be," Spike asked.

"Well, great product, bad advertisment team," the bartender said with a chuckle.

"You think so, eh? Well wait till you hear this little gem," Spike said turning to a petite redhead on his left. "Oh, sweetie, did that hurt?"

"What?" asked the perplexed girl.

"The bump on your head, when you fell out of heaven." Spike said his unique smirk.

"Argh, get away from me you creep," said the redhead, grabbing her drink and stalking away from the bar.

"Great stuff," laughed the bartender, "I should be taping this, I'd make a fortune."

"Why?" said Spike with a frown, "There is obviously a lesbian convention here. That's got to be the reason."

"Yeah mate," the bartender chuckled and turned to serve another customer.

He scouted the immediate area and finding no one of interest he moved closer to the dancers. She stood there on the edge of the dancing crowd, moving slow but stead to the pounding rhythm of the music. Nice ass, he thought, walking up behind her. Her legs were spectacular, encased in knee high leather boots. The stuff of his dreams, he moved closer until he was almost beside her and tapped her on the shoulder. She swung around and a cloud of blonde hair obscured his vision. Before she could say anything he began speaking, pulling out his big gun.

"Don't I know you from somewhere..." he trailed off when he looked straight into her face. "Shite Slayer, you could have said something," he grumbled, embarrassment evident.

"But Spike, I thought you wanted to proposition me?" Buffy answered with a tinkling laugh. While he stood there feeling like a fool, she dove in for the kill. "You know, I never would have thought you could do anything worse than your poetry, but I guess with those pickup lines, you proved me wrong."

"Ha, ha, Slayer," he said starting to feel a churning anger, "That's right pick on the poor defenseless, sexually frustrated Vampire. I'm sure this is giving you a real thrill."

"Listen Spike, let me give you a tip," Buffy said. "This isn't the seventies or the eighties where pick up lines were de rigueur. Women of today have been though the nineties and now we are in the naughties," she said with a wink, "We aren't looking for guys with prepared lines who are going to use us. Forget the poetry, try a little sincerity and you might get some action."

Sincerity? That's all it took? Spike racked his brain thinking for something to say to her.

"Nice shoes, want to shag?" he said with the utmost sincerity.

"Oh Spike," Buffy sighed, "That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me. Let's go."

Grabbing his hand she dragged him out the door of the club, but not before he managed to signal the bartender and give him the thumbs up.

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End file.
